


Long Enough For A Dream

by lucitae



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-01-31 06:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12676044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/lucitae
Summary: “Why don’t you try dating me for a week?”Minhyun expects peals of laughter, a Seongwoo who’s eyes have disappeared from smiling widely, a bandmate who tells him to knock it off. Instead, he gets a “sure.” Amusement missing from his eyes. “Why not?”Alternatively, a Seven Days AU.





	Long Enough For A Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [landfill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/landfill/gifts).



> For my dearest kouhai, whose hand holding gives me more confidence and courage than she will ever know. As always, for this life and the next, all my words are yours.
> 
> Onghwang is alive? Christmas has come early and so has this fic.

 

 

**MONDAY**

 

 

Seongwoo’s legs are propped up against the armrest of the couch, phone in hand as he thumbs through, visibly bored. Minhyun’s phone notifies him of Seonho’s reply the moment Seongwoo groans — dramatic as he slides further down, trying to meld into the couch.

Minhyun decides to indulge him in that moment with a “what’s wrong?”

Seongwoo tilts his head back to look at Minhyun a chair away before he shoves his phone in Minhyun’s direction. Minhyun leans in closer to catch a glimpse of the article Seongwoo has pulled up. “Oh, right. The wedding was today, wasn’t it?” Minhyun remarks, taking another glimpse at Seongwoo who is making a face. “Were you Song Hyekyo sunbaenim’s fan? Song Joongki sunbaenim’s?” Minhyun questions, trying to decipher the reason behind Seongwoo’s antics.

“Both? Neither? The point is,” Seongwoo says with a shake of his head, “it must be nice to be able to date. Have a relationship? Some semblance of normalcy.”

Minhyun frowns, careful as he comments: “you almost sound jealous. Regretting this idol path?”

“Never.” Seongwoo sits up to turn around and face Minhyun. “It’s just unfair if you think about our predicament. Everyone else gets to leave their occupation at the door.” He gestures and Minhyun can already imagine the fans camping outside their doors waiting to catch a glimpse of them. “We don’t. Not even in our most private moments. Every move we make is scrutinized. Our lives aren’t our own, treated more like objects than people. There’s no time to catch a breath.” Seongwoo lists off. His fists are clenched; a clear sign of agitation before he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “It is in moments like this,” he starts again after opening his eyes, much calmer than a few seconds ago, “that I crave something normal.”

“A relationship?”

“If we didn’t have restrictions, if we were just normal adults, wouldn’t it be natural to have one?”

Perhaps. It’s not like Minhyun doesn’t understand where Seongwoo is coming from. But, for Minhyun, his bandmates and the success of his band weighed more than romance.

“It’s not impossible to have one,” Minhyun allows.

“Yeah but they end before they begin,” Seongwoo says, flippant, “busy schedules get in the way.”

“There are cases where it worked out with people around them,” Minhyun recalls, “like with staff members, coordi noonas, make up artists and the like.”

“Still too busy,” Seongwoo remarks bordering desolation as he leans back.

Minhyun hums, thoughtful. “Well our schedules aren’t too bad lately. You have a week to try,” Minhyun says, returning to his phone. He lowers it a moment later, lips curling into a smirk when he jokes: “If staff members don’t work due to schedules… why don’t you try dating me for a week?”

He expects peals of laughter, a Seongwoo who’s eyes have disappeared from smiling widely, a bandmate who tells him to knock it off. Instead, he gets a “sure.” Amusement missing from his eyes. “Why not?”

Before Minhyun can choke out a _what_ , they are all rounded up for practice.

 

 

 

Minhyun’s on the verge of collapsing. His shirt is sticking to his skin in a way that makes him want to shower immediately, but his limbs are languid and tempted to give out before he even gets there. He sinks to the ground, leaning against the mirror for support, delighted by the cool touch of the reflected surface while quietly apologizing to the custodians for the marks that his back will leave behind. Jisung joins him, sighing in relief, leaving enough space between them so that the heat radiating off their skin doesn’t reach each other. Both sit there in silent amazement at the younger kids who still have energy left in them.

Seongwoo approaches moments later, a cold water bottle in his hand that he holds out to Minhyun like an offering.

“Thanks,” Minhyun adds with a smile as he takes it, screwing open the lid and tilting his head back to pour a mouthful. He hands it to Jisung when he’s finished and jolts in surprise when he feels something cold press against his neck. Seongwoo drops the towel he has rinsed in cold water unceremoniously. Minhyun picks it up, puzzled as he watches Seongwoo walk away.

Seongwoo couldn’t have taken his joke seriously _right_?

 

 

 

**TUESDAY**

 

 

 

There’s a new message from Seongwoo. A bright and cheery _good morning!_  accompanied by a sticker. Minhyun frowns as he exits his room, puzzled over Seongwoo’s sudden uncharacteristic behavior.

The man in question sits in the kitchen, one leg folded under him, the other swinging aimlessly. “Good morning,” Seongwoo greets, sleep still in his voice, still trying to wake himself up despite that blank face. It causes Minhyun to chuckle before he runs a hand through his unkempt hair. “Well someone’s bright and early today,” Minhyun remarks, turning his back to Seongwoo as he opens the door of the refrigerator, testing his luck.

“It’s our day off,” Seongwoo says between yawns.

Minhyun stills, a carton of milk in one hand as he turns around, brain catching up as it pieces a picture.

“Are we…” Minhyun begins, apprehensively, “supposed to be dating right now?”

Seongwoo frowns, tilting his head. “Yesterday you…” Seongwoo trails off and before he can say anything Minhyun chuckles, shakes his head ( mostly at himself ), and decides:

“I guess I’ll do my best to enjoy it then.”

Seongwoo’s eyes narrow. Minhyun had meant it as a joke. And now that it is finally sinking in he has half the mind to grab Minhyun by the shoulders or tell him to forget about it and pretend it never happened. Heat creeps up, accompanied by shame. He parts his lips.

Minhyun sets his glass down with a clink, removes the last traces of milk with the back of his hand before he looks at Seongwoo. “Let’s go on a _date_ , Seongwoo,” he says with a smile so bright and beautiful Seongwoo internally curses himself when his heart skips a beat. Minhyun takes a quick glance at his phone before remarking: “it’s already Tuesday! One week will be over in a blink of an eye.” His fingers drum against the counter of the kitchen, eyes almost sparkling when he says: “I have to use my time wisely.”

Seongwoo wants to protest that this isn’t supposed to be a game. But it is, isn’t it? No one has time for this. Minhyun’s only being a good friend as he plays along and Seongwoo…

Well, Seongwoo wanted the fluttering feelings that accompanied romantic love, to have a hand to hold, to offer his shoulder for someone to cry on despite how unrealistic it was for someone in his situation. But the thing is, he’s terrible at denying himself the things he wants — like becoming an idol when his company had other plans for him. And this is far from ideal but Minhyun’s smiling at him in such a way that’s almost coquettish and Seongwoo can’t find it in himself to say no when Minhyun’s fingers wrap around his wrist and drags him to the living room.

 

 

 

Seongwoo feels like a fool. He doesn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t this: Guanlin crammed in between Minhyun and him, suggesting the store they should visit once they get to their stop. Seongwoo probably shouldn’t have allowed himself to expect anything. After all, Minhyun’s history of dating only consisted of texting.

“You know how fans are,” Minhyun had tried to explain Guanlin’s additional company when they thought he wasn’t listening. “It’ll create less problems this way.” And what can Seongwoo do but agree?

So it ends up like any other day off ( the ones they barely have. The ones where they venture out and still get photographed and uploaded on social media. The ones where fan theories run rampant in the comment sections. The ones that were meant to be a breath of a fresh air and yet recognition and fame comes with a price ; the novelty wears off faster than Seongwoo has expected. ) They go shopping. Guanlin’s excitability is seen in the way his eyes light up as he grabs a shoe off the display shelf and inspects it while commenting how he’d been thinking of getting a pair. Minhyun joins him, debating the pros and cons, reminding him gently of the shared storage space with ten other individuals. Seongwoo diverts Minhyun by pointing out a pair of shoes that seem to be of the style he prefers. Guanlin flashes him a brief, appreciative grin.

They end up taking longer than Guanlin to finish. The boy is by the check out counter, a bag in one hand, phone in another as he waits for the two of them to finish. Their smiles are sheepish when they catch up to Guanlin, a bag in each hand.

 

 

 

Lunch was simple. Again, it was whatever Guanlin settled on. Seongwoo who teased at the pronunciation even though there wasn’t much to nitpick and Minhyun who complimented Guanlin before the conversation turned and settled into the easy and comfortable pace Seongwoo has gotten used to in the past three months. ( Really? Has it only been that long? In some ways it feels much longer ; a lifetime ago. )

 

 

 

“Do you want a bite?” Minhyun asks when Seongwoo has finished and still has yet to set down his spoon, holding it between his teeth like he’s still considering seconds.

He brightens up. “Can I?”

Minhyun shoves his bowl closer to Seongwoo as a reply.

 

 

 

“Guanlin, what movie would you like to watch?” Minhyun asks.

Guanlin looks between them before he smiles, apologetic. “I was thinking about heading home.”

“Oh,” Minhyun sounds, crestfallen, before Guanlin gives both of them a smile.

“I can take these home for you, if you want,” he says as he reaches out to take the purchased shoes from Minhyun and Seongwoo’s hands. He waves before taking off.

Minhyun turns to Seongwoo then with a tentative: “movie?” And Seongwoo nods in agreement.

 

 

 

It was a hassle trying to remain undetected. Cap pulled low so that the bill obscured his eyes while sporting a mask. They had selected something randomly. The interesting ones required IDs and neither of them wanted to risk having the management find out from articles circulating online. Yet, despite all this, they still got popcorn to share and two medium soft drinks because Seongwoo had insisted that the point of coming to the movie theaters in the first place was to enjoy it with snacks.

They slip in while the trailers are playing. The room is dark spare for the glow from the screen, making them unrecognizable. They move towards the back row, where people would least likely notice when absorbed into the action unfolding on screen.

“Pity,” Minhyun says after taking a seat. The month and year flashes on the screen for the audience to get an inkling of when the movie would air. “I like watching trailers.”

Seongwoo nods as he joins Minhyun, flopping down and digging into the popcorn Minhyun has to attempt to keep from spilling.

“You can still watch them online,” he says between chewing.

“It’s different.”

It is. Seongwoo remembers the days where he was still a trainee and unrecognized. All decisions have their consequences. Actualized dreams have their price to pay.

Seongwoo settles into his chair as the opening sequence flares up on screen, music picking up, glad he’s not here alone.

 

 

 

Minhyun’s drink nearly spills if not for Seongwoo who reaches out to grab it before it falls. He places it into a holster and turns, only to find Minhyun dozing off. Practice has taken its toll. Seongwoo smiles before he maneuvers the popcorn in hand and inches closer so that Minhyun’s head wouldn’t be in such an uncomfortable position.

It’s growing colder recently. Minhyun is wearing a turtleneck sweater along with a coat. Hair sort of styled, a small sliver parted to reveal his forehead, eyelashes fluttering as he drifts off.

The pictures on the silver screen keep changing but Seongwoo has already forgotten what the movie was about.

 

 

 

**WEDNESDAY**

 

 

 

“Good morning,” Minhyun says automatically when he sees Seongwoo staring vacantly at a wall.

Seongwoo seems to wake up from the greeting alone and turns towards Minhyun, eyes crinkling as his face melts into a smile. “Morning,” he replies, tone full of energy compared to seconds ago, “did you sleep well?”

Minhyun rubs his neck. “Well enough and you?”

“Could have been better,” Seongwoo replies as Minhyun tilts his head, gesturing at the carton of milk in his hand, silently asking if Seongwoo wants a glass. “Yes please,” Seongwoo adds with a smile.

Minhyun nods and brings out a second glass, pouring equal portions in each before sliding one in Seongwoo’s direction.

Seongwoo finishes it with a dramatic flair, sounding a loud “ahhhhhhh” as one would in commercials, bringing Minhyun to chuckle.

“You even have a milk mustache,” Minhyun notes before reaching out and getting rid of it with his thumb.

Seongwoo’s stomach does a weird flip. Maybe he’s just not used to milk on an empty stomach. That must be it.

“That was the whole point,” Seongwoo whines instead, lower lip jutting out in the way Minhyun has gotten used to but has still yet to be desensitized.

 

 

 

It’s after practice. After everyone has scattered because there’s no requirement to stay. Most have retired back to the dorms, others showering, the more studious ones are elsewhere. Which leaves Minhyun and Seongwoo alone. Seongwoo is trying to catch his breath and Minhyun’s smiling, amused. Seongwoo holds up his hand before Minhyun can jibe at him.

“Don’t—” he warns and Minhyun chuckles from where he’s seated.

“I’m exhausted,” Seongwoo admits as he joins Minhyun on the floor. “If you’re going to make fun of me then lend me your lap. I’m going to use it as a pillow.” Seongwoo steadies one of Minhyun’s thighs before he flops down, wriggling in search of a comfortable position. Minhyun’s heart stutters in his chest as he tries to get out of this compromising position but Seongwoo is unrelenting. Minhyun’s also exhausted from practice so he relents.

“Wow, it’s all muscle,” Seongwoo remarks when he's finally found a position of comfort, crossing his arms and closing his eyes.

“I’m not a girl you know...” Minhyun reminds. It’s impossible to not stare down at the one occupying space on a thigh. Seongwoo shifts once more, the constellation of moles visible. There’s a strange urge to reach out and touch it.

“I guess that's true.” Seongwoo's voice stopping Minhyun’s fingers in their track. “Can't expect you to have nice, soft thighs.” Seongwoo cracks and eye open and Minhyun is grateful for small mercies ( like how his hand retracted before Seongwoo could see it ). “I guess this is alright, though,” Seongwoo says, grinning.

Alright for Seongwoo maybe. Minhyun can’t hear anything past the pounding in his ears, arms straight and stiff on both sides. Alright for Seongwoo maybe, who has done this countless times before — taking up someone’s lap for a few stolen moments in the afternoon. Alright for Seongwoo maybe, but for Minhyun... it’s a bit...

A familiar ring tone interrupts Minhyun’s train of thought. Seongwoo groans, flipping over like a child would when the alarm clock sounds.

“You’re not going to pick it up?” Minhyun asks before Seongwoo groans once more and sits up. He checks the caller ID before bringing it to his ear and scowls when the person on the other end begins to speak.

It sounds like a girl’s voice. Seongwoo gets on his feet and turns away.

“How did you get my number?” he hisses into the receiver and rarely has Minhyun ever seen Seongwoo lose composure like this.

Seongwoo runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “That was two years ago. And if I remember correctly,” he snaps, voice cold, “you were the one who broke up with me. What changed?” A sneer. A bark of laughter leaving a bitter taste in Minhyun’s mouth.

His thigh feels cold from where Seongwoo had rested. And how could he have forgotten what a convincing actor Seongwoo makes.

A week. Not to find what is in their hearts but to play an game of make believe. Four days left.

Minhyun smiles when Seongwoo returns, visibly calmer spare for the clenched fist.

“A fan?” Minhyun asks, feigning innocence.

“Something like that,” Seongwoo replies. Seongwoo sighs before adding: “not going to be the last. Not if the company won’t do anything about its staff giving away our information.”

Minhyun nods, forcing his lips to contort into the semblance of what he hopes to be an understanding smile.

 

 

 

Minhyun props himself up with his elbows, thumbing through his feed when a notification pops up.

It’s from Seongwoo.

_good night, minhyunnie!_

Along with a sticker with puckered lips.

Minhyun finds himself smiling before he types in a reply and hits send.

A good morning and a good night text, shopping, eating together, going to the movie theaters...

Minhyun flips over, ticking off each item listed with his fingers, and wondering what normal people do when they date?

Oh well, he’ll find out more when tomorrow comes.

 

 

 

_sleep well, ongcheongie_

Is Minhyun’s reply and Seongwoo has to cover his face to keep his giddiness from showing.

Daniel knocks his elbow against Jisung’s gesturing in Seongwoo’s direction, mouthing  _what’s up with him?_

Jisung gives Seongwoo a glance before he shrugs, noncommittal.

Seongwoo takes another peek at his phone, unable to keep a grin off his face.

Ideally, he’ll be able to send good night texts to the same person every week. Seongwoo can’t help but feel a bit hopeful as he sets his phone aside and drifts off with that warm curl lingering in his chest.

 

 

 

**THURSDAY**

 

 

 

They pile onto the van. No one seems to care that Seongwoo had walked past his usual seat, choosing to take up space next to Minhyun at the very back. No one seems to care about the hushed conversation or the earbuds split between two individuals or the way they huddle together, jacket draped over chests and laps to the point no one can tell which jacket belongs to whom. No one seems to notice how Seongwoo dozes off, head falling onto Minhyun’s shoulders or the way the corner of Minhyun’s lips curl upwards as he looks away, staring out the window.

It’s impossible for anyone to notice the hands held beneath the cover of the jacket. Better off this way.

Minhyun dozes off.

It is Jisung who finds them at the very back of the van: Seongwoo resting his head on Minhyun’s shoulder and Minhyun resting his head on Seongwoo’s.

 

 

 

“Minhyun...” Minki says, concerned. Minhyun doesn’t need to see Minki’s face to know the frown that has formed on his lips.

“I know, I know,” Minhyun replies, hanging his head as he answers his friend on the other end of the receiver.

Seongwoo has a schedule to attend to ( the same one Daniel and Jonghyun are a part of )  and Minhyun still doesn’t know what compelled him to give his friend a call or tell his bandmate everything.

“It was meant to be a joke. I didn’t think he would agree to it,” Minhyun insists.

Minki’s quiet for a moment. Long enough to make Minhyun nervous.

“…Minki?” Minhyun breathes.

“Who’s laughing now?” is all Minki says in return.

Minhyun’s heart plummets.

 

 

 

“Are you sleeping?”

Minhyun holds the phone to his ear as he blinks, trying to appear awake as he takes note of the time on the clock. His voice gives him away when he says: “no.”

Seongwoo laughs on the other end.

“I missed you,” Seongwoo says, voice hushed and low. Minhyun closes eyes, smiling to himself as the familiar lick of warmth flares up between his ribs.

“I hope you aren’t expecting me to say it back,” Minhyun replies.

Seongwoo whines.

It draws a chuckle out of Minhyun as he answers: “we just saw each other earlier today.”

“Still…” Seongwoo says with fondness, “I missed you” before he starts relaying what Minhyun had missed out on, excitedly, in a way that makes Minhyun wake up a bit as he hums at the appropriate places.

“Stay up until I get back?” Seongwoo asks, hopeful.

“You are making yourself out to be more important than you actually are,” Minhyun laughs into the receiver before adding an “I’ll try.”

Minhyun doesn’t have to see Seongwoo to know the smile he’s wearing on his face.

“See you back at the dorms,” Seongwoo says before hanging up. Minhyun’s phone vibrates with texts a moment afterwards. All coming from the same individual.

_wait for me, minhyunnie!_

How could Minhyun fall asleep between all the incessant buzzing and how his phone lights up every second?

 

 

 

**FRIDAY**

 

 

 

The Hwang Minhyun on stage, the Minhyun who fans know and love, can only be described as ethereal. It’s like the company found out the formula to sell the narrative of a beauty so otherworldly one can only wonder how can he be real? His hair dark to contrast and accentuate pale skin, parted just so. Eyes with a hint of a liner extended to draw the attention to his face, to the edge of his eyes. Skin seemingly perfect from products they had applied before sending him out to face the audience that screams his name in a way that makes Seongwoo almost proud he picked Minhyun for visual center all those months ago.

Yet Seongwoo prefers the Hwang Minhyun before him. The Minhyun that leans against the counter, yawning without covering his mouth as he tries to wake up. The Minhyun whose hair is unkempt and his shirt rides up a bit from where he had tossed and turned during the night. And if one pays close enough attention, they could find blemishes on his skin. Without liner, his eyes don't seem as sharp ; lips aren't as red. He no longer looks like some untouchable beauty. Minhyun looks human, looks tangible, looks perfect.

“What are you looking at?” Minhyun asks, snapping Seongwoo back into reality.

Seongwoo gestures at the corner of his own lips. “Your stain. Slept too soundly last night?” he retorts, grinning as Minhyun hurriedly wipes at it, turning around, ears a bright red.

 

 

 

Another rare lull in schedules that they’ve come to cherish. All the kids seem to join Jisung on the couch as he catches up with a drama he’s been following in the moments he can. A few of them asking questions. The others are just there to bask in the company of others: ‘socializing’ without truly socializing, choosing to be on their phones as they listen in to conversations.

The screen depicts a couple in a rain of cherry blossom petals. The female tiptoes, expectant. The male cups a cheek before leaning down to meet her in the middle. The scene changes. A monologue. A dream. A flashback to a ride on the bus, where the same male falls asleep on the female’s shoulder as the female blocks the glaring sun with her hand so that the male can slumber in peace.

Minhyun sits on the opposite end of the couch from Seongwoo. Despite the annoyance on Jisung’s face, Jaehwan begins a conversation between the members, asking about ideal types and what they would do if they could date, drowning out the monologue on screen.

“Hmm—” Seongwoo sounds when it is his turn, turning to look directly at Minhyun, “there is someone I like, but I just can’t seem to get them to like me back.”

Minhyun thinks of the phone call and the voice on the other end of the line. He feels sick to his stomach.

“Hmm,” Seongwoo sounds once more as a reply to someone’s question, “but if I come on them too strongly they’ll probably be put off so.” He shrugs. “But, well…” he cocks his head and grins, “things I can’t say to their face are constantly running through my head.”

Minhyun looks at him then, only to find Seongwoo’s intense gaze focused on him and him alone as he says the next part: “that honestly, I want to take them to bed and do countless things to them. I am a man, after all.” A short pause before he continues, expression coy: “it seems like they haven’t experienced pleasure yet, so I want to teach them all kind of things that feel good.”

“That’s so dirty, hyung!” Jaehwan protests despite being the number one perpetrator that goaded Seongwoo on.

Daehwi leans away, disgust clear on his face. Jihoon looks as if Seongwoo had personally offended him.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Jisung interjects. “Clear out your history next time,” he reminds before following Seongwoo’s gaze and looks at Minhyun whose tips of his ears are bright red.

Ah, so that’s what this is about.

 

 

 

**SATURDAY**

 

 

 

“Leave tomorrow open for me” is the final message Seongwoo leaves as he bids Minhyun goodnight. But they forget the list of obligations that come with being a group formed by national producers and by the time they have a chance to catch a breath, the night is no longer young. The streetlights are lit, stores about to close in ten minutes, everyone has gone back to the dorms to steal the moments between now and sleep — moments when they can be themselves.

So Seongwoo grabs Minhyun by the wrist, places his index over his lips, and drags Minhyun out into the night.

 

 

 

They end up in a rental car. Nowhere near as fancy as the car they had been provided for the reality show. It was enough, considering how it was out of pocket. And if Minhyun had a complaint, he didn’t voice it.

“Where to?” Minhyun asks, conversational as he selects a song to play and Seongwoo hums appreciatively at Minhyun’s choice under his breath.

“Nowhere. Anywhere,” Seongwoo says before meeting Minhyun’s eyes through the rearview mirror, eyes twinkling and smile mischievous as he adds: “how about we book it to Busan?”

Minhyun chuckles as he shakes his head, refocusing on his phone as he queues songs for the drive. “Management will have our hide from this alone,” gesturing at their late night escapade. “We’ll end up in house arrest until 2019 if we really do drive all the way to Busan,” Minhyun adds. He looks up, then out the window at the dazzling night view: threads of light broken by a river that snakes through the center of the city. “Besides, it’ll be more exciting if you made that trip with someone else.” His voice is quiet, thoughtful.

Seongwoo grips the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Busan isn’t just about the ocean and the beaches. Food is famous too.”

Seongwoo smiles when he catches the expression on Minhyun’s face, despite how Minhyun tries to hide it behind his hand as he turns toward the window on his side.

 

 

 

They pull up at a rest area and silently hope that arriving at such an ungodly hour of the night renders the shopkeeper too sleepy to recognize them. They raid the convenience store: debating over brands of ramen and tea, trying to settle for too much food or just enough, and waiting side by side for the deokbokki and ramen to come to a boil before they bring it all back to the car.

Another few kilometers. A joint duet with the occasional harmonizing attempts as they sing over some song Minhyun has selected. The smell of food causes stomachs to growl in tandem, sending them into laughter.

So Seongwoo parks and Minhyun rolls down the windows. A gentle breeze blows through the car.

Seongwoo opens the sunroof. The soft whir of the automatic machine punctuates the silent atmosphere. Minhyun frees two pairs of chopsticks from the packaging as he retrieves the food, warning Seongwoo to be careful when he sets a portion on Seongwoo’s lap.

Music becomes a backdrop, spilling out from Minhyun’s phone. Sounds of slurping takes the stage followed by loud sighs of content when they finish.

Seongwoo leans back, fixated upon the sliver of sky overhead. They still aren’t far enough to see a sky dusted with stars. Just a few specks. The city sprawls in front of them. In a few more hours it’ll wake ( or fall asleep, depending on your point of view ), but he doubts they’ll be able to stay that long.

Minhyun is doing the exact same thing. Eyes wide as he studies the view through the sunroof. Wider when Seongwoo’s fingers touch his cheek.

What is one supposed to do in a moment like this? Scenes from movies flash through Minhyun’s mind. Seongwoo’s eyes are dark, fingers pliant against Minhyun’s skin, feverish to the touch. Maybe he should close his eyes, Minhyun considers, see where it will lead.

His eyes stay open, curiosity getting the better of him. There’s a million reasons why he shouldn’t be doing this. A million reasons why he should stop Seongwoo before it unfolds like how his mind had laid it out. A million reasons.

It plays like a slow motion scene from an action movie. The one where a motorcycle flips in midair and yet a steel hand is still able to pluck it for a ride. The distance between them shortens.

His brain short circuits the moment Seongwoo’s lips meets his. The reasons tossed out the window. Minhyun allows his eyes to close as he melts.

This must be what overheating feels like. The way the laptop whirs angrily trying to fan itself cool. The way a phone scalds the palm of the hand after over usage. The way Seongwoo leaves a burning trail in his wake with his lips, with the edge of his teeth, with the tip of his tongue, with his fingers that slip under Minhyun’s shirt and

“This is a rental car,” Minhyun gasps, hand circling and firmly holding Seongwoo’s as Minhyun tries to catch his breath.

“Who cares?” Seongwoo replies, trying to continue but the efforts turn futile in Minhyun’s resolute hands.

“They know you,” Minhyun insists, squeezing Seongwoo. “You rented the car with your license. They know you.”

“So...?” Seongwoo retorts. An edge of impatience creeping into his voice.

“No one’s lips are sealed. Rumors will circulate.” If one listens closely, there is a hint of panic to the tone as if it was accompanied by a slew of bad reminders. “Fame is fleeting ; love is superficial.” Minhyun sounds broken.

Seongwoo lets go. He knows where Minhyun’s concern stems from, can’t fault him for it. Knows more than others. Knows more than this really. So instead he utters an “I know” more curt than he intended.

 

 

 

They drive back in silence.

 

 

 

One day left.

 

 

 

Minhyun falls asleep somewhere in between.

Seongwoo watches silently. The car is parked in front of the dorm, lights turned off, engine still running because the temperature setting is perfect. Seongwoo glances at the time. He should return the vehicle soon but he also wants to give Minhyun a few more moments.

If only time could halt in this moment ; if only tomorrow would never come.

But Seongwoo was never an unrealistic man. Dreams were meant to be actualized ; he’s always chased after the possibility of turning it into reality.

“We’re here,” Seongwoo says, shaking Minhyun once, lightly.

Minhyun blinks. Seongwoo’s face is closer than he’s used to: a distance that makes him recall moments ago and he’s overwhelmed by the sudden urge to meet Seongwoo half way.

But he has no right.

So Minhyun unbuckles his seat belt, opens the car door, and slips out of the seat.

“Sleep well,” Seongwoo says.

Minhyun lingers, ducking down so that his face can be seen through the window. “Text me when you arrive safely.”

Seongwoo returns to the Seongwoo Minhyun’s used to with a: “I was planning on it.” But Minhyun is well aware of how good an actor Seongwoo is.

 

 

 

Minhyun realizes after rinsing the suds from his hair. How he can’t imagine returning to the way things were before. After all, Seongwoo was next to him all week like it is a given. To think that it will all change tomorrow makes Minhyun’s stomach churn. He places a hand on the wall to steady himself as he hunches over.

The very beginning is always filled with hope. Yet hope paves way to disappointment. There’s always a fallout.

Like the first time he stood on a stage with four others by his side and they ended up not breaking even, on the brink of disbandment. Like the time he faced the scrutiny of 97 other individuals with three by his side and one back home, alone, and ended up being the one, all alone, unable to even acknowledge the ones who mean the most and forced to pretend that history of his never existed. Like on Monday when he carelessly joked while meaning it half-heartedly ; like on Tuesday when it truly began without this tangle and mess of emotions that rise up like bile in his throat.

There’s always a fallout. Minhyun doesn’t want to imagine it.

 

 

 

**SUNDAY**

 

 

 

The last message on Minhyun’s phone is from Seongwoo with a dutiful:

_i’ve arrived!_

_in bed._

_let’s do something tomorrow, together_

Which is probably why they are currently watching Pacific Rim.

“What part of this is like Transformers?” Minhyun asks, raising a brow in Seongwoo’s direction.

“Giant robots!” Seongwoo protests, indignantly. “Giant robots punching — well... Not other giant robots. Godzillas? Anyway.” Seongwoo waves a hand. “Not important. Isn’t this great?”

Minhyun wrinkles his nose in response.

“Oh come on, I know you love it,” Seongwoo replies cheekily, “Besides, we need to watch it before we go watch the sequel.”

Hope flares up again before Minhyun can do anything about it. Roots itself like on Friday in this exact space.

“Do you think we would be drift compatible?” Seongwoo asks out of the blue, forcing Minhyun to return to the moment.

Minhyun deadpans. “I wouldn’t want to see the inside of your brain.”

Seongwoo juts out his lower lip. “But we would be drift compatible,” he concludes with a certainty he’s not sure where it comes from. “We would pilot a jaeger, swing around our big sword, kick ass, retire at the ripe old age of 35 and spend the rest of our careers grooming other Rangers to follow in our footsteps.”

Minhyun laughs. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

 

 

 

The movie credits rolled thirty minutes ago. Seongwoo had asked Minhyun to accompany him to the convenience store. The setting sun an eggyolk hanging low in the sky, the Midas touch affecting objects in its line of sight, the furthest edges a palette.

They walk in silence. Plastic bags hanging low and full in their hands.

Seongwoo stops. There is no one around them. A miracle, really, considering all things.

Minhyun had mulled over yesterday’s shower thoughts, settled on a conclusion, and parts his lips. “Seongwoo—”

Seongwoo turns around, pulling out his phone to check the time. “When does this week end?” he asks upon meeting Minhyun’s.

Fallout.

Minhyun’s throat is dry as he tries to find his voice to say: “whenever you want.”

“Okay,” Seongwoo's says, matter of fact, eyes still on the time his phone displays. “Now’s good then.”

“Seongwoo—” Minhyun attempts one last time.

Seongwoo cuts him off. “Everyone knows you as Hwang gallyang or Emperor Hwang but no one knows how childish you are. How you talk way too much to the point you could talk someone’s ear off. How you nag like a housewife — but nowhere near as bad as Jisung.” Seongwoo chuckles before continuing: “How you’re petty when everything comes down to it.” He pauses, smiling fondly when he says the last part. “But that’s also what I love about you.”

Minhyun clenches his fist as his jaw loosens.

“Go out with me,” Seongwoo finishes, earnest, “not just for a week.” He’s still smiling but there is a hint of fear in his eyes. “Let’s see how long we last, Minhyun.”

Minhyun shakes his head in disbelief. ( Seongwoo’s heart plummets. But, hey, at least he tried. ) “You’re so cunning,” Minhyun says, “so cunning.”

“Has anyone told you how frustrating you are?” Minhyun continues, “You had me run through cycles of hope and doubt. And when I decided to ignore my fears, say something before it is too late, you pulled the rug from under me.”

“So...” Seongwoo drags out, tone tentative yet hopeful, “is this a yes?”

Minhyun closes his eyes. Opens them. Takes in how the fading sunlight plays with Seongwoo’s face. The same face he had claimed was his type all those months ago before he even knew the person behind it. Before they were selected to debut in the same band. Before his suggestion, before the phone call, before the uncanny confession, before this.

Minhyun gives a little huff. “Of course it is a yes.” ( Like it could have been any other answer. )

“Just wanted to make sure,” Seongwoo says with a smirk.

Minhyun is tempted to roll his eyes but instead he grabs the front of Seongwoo’s shirt, draws him close, tilts his head, and meets Seongwoo’s lips with his own.

( And when Seongwoo cheekily comments _I could get used to this_ , Minhyun shuts him up with his lips once more. )

 

 

**EPILOGUE**

 

 

“Where is Minhyun and Seongwoo?” Jisung asks, looking around the room.

“Practicing,” Guanlin replied without looking up from his phone.

Jihoon snickers. “Is that what they call it now?”

 

 

 

There is only a week left before their final concert: a farewell to all the fans who have supported them for a year and a half. Their hands are intertwined as Seongwoo leans in closer, a phone in his free hand.

“I want to commemorate the moment,” he explains and Minhyun indulges, smiling as he gets captured.

Seongwoo’s lips brush against Minhyun’s cheek as he says: “take care of me in the future.”

Minhyun laughs, eyes crinkling. “Shouldn't I be the one to say that?”

 

 

 

Walking with you, a new week begins.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from a line in Seven Days. If you haven't had a chance to be exposed to [Seven Days](http://mangakakalot.com/manga/seven_days), I would urge you to read it. It was hard to combine with onghwang because [spoiler alerts?] Seven Days revolves around strangers ( or mere acquaintances, depending on how you look at them ) falling in love where as it is different for onghwang. It's a seven day period where they are forced to realize their affections or something along those lines.
> 
> The place they have a mini road trip to is [Bugak Skyway](http://english.visitkorea.or.kr/enu/ATR/SI_EN_3_1_1_1.jsp?cid=1939656).
> 
> The drama hinted at is While You Were Sleeping. The current favorite I'm binge watching.
> 
> I clearly can't write canon compliant fics I don't know why I try.
> 
> A writing hiatus for a month. Watch me break it.


End file.
